


Edge

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMFs, BDSM, Bloodplay, Competence Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Fear Play, Kidnapping Roleplay, Knifeplay, M/M, Polyamory, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Roleplay, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: Tony knows his kink for being frightened usually gets him in trouble. But these days, with two boyfriends who both make him feel safer than anything he’s known since meeting Rhodey in college, and also are game for a surprising amount of edgeplay in bed, he can’t really be arsed to care.A canon-divergent AU set in a world where Tony helped Steve bring Bucky in CA:TWS, and nothing else canon happened.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131
Collections: STB Bingo: Round One





	Edge

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this very quickly after seeing a certain trailer. No spoilers, only pantsfeels. So. Many. Pantsfeels. I also intentionally stopped myself from using slurs or explicit humiliation in here, so that readers who enjoy kink but not those particular ones have something of mine they can read for once! That said, this is intense, RACK, edgeplay, read the tags for specific triggers.
> 
> This fills the “BDSM” square for my Steve/Tony/Bucky bingo card!

The leather around his wrists and ankles is thick and wide. Steve fastens everything carefully, checking for any nerve pinches, but Tony’s not going anywhere, and his boyfriend’s stern expression never wavers. He’s grown a beard recently, and it took no time at all for Tony to become addicted to the feel of it between his thighs. They share a beard oil (Tony won’t tell Steve how much it retails for), so the dark hair on Steve’s face is just the right mix of soft and prickly when he eats Tony’s ass. That’s not the plan for tonight, though. 

Steve props Tony’s head up under a couple of pillows, which adjusts his line of sight so that he can see Bucky in the shadows at the far corner of the room, a long knife glinting as he casually tosses it in his flesh hand, the handle making a soft thudding sound each time it lands in his leather-gloved palm. 

_ Thunk. _

_ Thunk. _

Their eyes are hard, like they’re his most competent kidnappers yet. Steve’s wearing a darker version of his uniform, designed for stealth. In reality, he’s fooling no one—Cap is  _ terrible _ at stealth. But in the bedroom, it adds a certain edge to things. They both wear fingerless leather gloves, but Bucky is decked out in new duds, all black leather. JARVIS designed them with Bucky’s input. This is the first time Tony’s seeing this particular gear. He’s pretty sure it’s not his birthday, but…

Bucky’s recently-cut hair was a bit of a shock, at first, but now it adds to the hard look, giving him a hint of not-quite-yet-familiar. Tony’s not yet accustomed to the way the soft strands feel against his fingers, and it’s different from his wartime cut in the photos, shorter and more modern. Steve’s hair, by contrast, has grown out a bit, and Tony likes wrapping his hands up in it, making desperate fists as Steve fucks him. 

But tonight, it’s Bucky’s show. Steve steps back, makes a little grunt of sound, and then Bucky steps into the light, still flipping the knife. 

“Pretty,” he evaluates, his tone low and menacing. Tony can almost believe this man has never seen him before, naked like this, laid out like a buffet. He catches the knife and twirls it deftly in his flesh hand, trailing a gleaming metal index finger down Tony’s chest, over his scars. The sensation varies drastically between bits of skin, alternately numb and sensitive. Tony shivers, staring up at him. “Prep him.”

Bucky doesn’t step away as Steve swipes stinging alcohol all over Tony’s body, chest and hips and thighs and arms. Tony bites his lip, considering the implications, all the places Bucky  _ could _ cut him. Yes, they have pre-negotiated boundaries, but his hindbrain doesn’t know that, and the fear that creeps up his spine is delicious. He’s been in situations like this that  _ weren’t _ safe, both for play and in actual kidnappings. He’s not totally sure why he fetishizes his own trauma in this way, but there’s something about the cold bite of fear that is difficult to replicate without actual danger, no matter how contained by his trust for his partners. It makes him feel alive, feel paradoxically powerful in a way money and success and fame never have. This has nothing to do with his legacy, with his father. This is  _ his _ . And also  _ theirs. _

Bucky swipes his knife and his metal hand over another alcohol wipe that Steve holds out, and then before Tony can take a breath or even mentally process what’s happening first, Bucky swipes along his collarbone, quick and precise, a shallow cut that makes Tony gasp and jerk belatedly, once the knife is safely distant from his skin. Bucky jams a leather-clad knee into Tony’s thigh, pinning him still. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he demands under his breath, in the tone of someone who expects his orders to be followed. He uses the metal hand to brace Tony’s hip and traces another line just inside the hipbone. The placement allows Tony to watch this time, a thin white stripe appearing before blood beads to the surface. He swallows hard, for once in his life at a loss for words. Steve towers over him to the side of the bed, looking bored. He rests his hands at his belt buckle, stance wide. Hysterically, Tony thinks  _ power pose _ just before Bucky slices a deeper curved cut into the meat of his thigh.

Tony shouts.

“Shut up,” Steve warns. “We’re planning to leave you alive. But my friend here has a history of…  _ mistakes _ .”

Bucky grins and it’s diabolical, nothing like the cold affect of the Soldier but just as creepy. Tony gulps and nods. 

“Isn’t he sweet?” Bucky teases, rubbing Tony’s left nipple with the metal thumb and pushing it up a bit, making a prick with the tip of his knife just under the areola. 

“Yeah, sure.” Steve’s poker face melts into a fond smile for his lifelong partner. “You just like playing with your food.”

“Right,” Bucky agrees, and gives the knife another flip  _ far _ too close to Tony’s face. He goes stock still, his fight-or-flight response  _ screaming _ even as he knows how good Bucky’s aim is, how goddamn fucking  _ competent _ both of his lovers are. It’s part of what attracted him to them in the first place. “But it’s still fun if the food plays back.” He laughs, makes another cut between two ribs. There’s no obvious pattern to the marks, nothing romantic about it. It makes Tony’s dick stand to attention. “Makes no difference to me.”

“Sure,” Steve smirks. “Doesn’t look like he minds, though.”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t,” Bucky agrees. He rubs his metal thumb over Tony’s lip, pulling it down. Tony stares up at him, feeling sweat beading at his brow. Bucky holds his gaze without flinching, steel blue eyes holding warm brown. “He’s just that kind of guy.” 

To Tony, it feels like a love confession. 


End file.
